Hard Landing (22 page)

‘Yeah, fine,’ said Carpenter.

‘My first visit, this. The wife.’

‘Good luck.’

‘I think it’s tougher for her than it is for me.’

‘That’s the punishment,’ said Carpenter. ‘It’s not about bars on the windows and crap food, it’s about keeping us away from our families.’

‘Yeah, but we’re not even guilty. That’s what’s so shit unfair.’

Rathbone drew level with Shepherd. ‘You got your compassionate visit,’ he said. ‘You’ll be in a private room.’

‘Thanks, Mr Rathbone.’

‘Good luck,’ he said, and walked ahead of the group.

‘Compassionate visit?’ said Carpenter.

‘Yeah. The missus is threatening to divorce me,’ said Shepherd. ‘I didn’t want her mouthing off in front of everyone.’

‘You having problems?’

Shepherd looked at him. He didn’t want to tell Carpenter anything about Sue. Even though she was coming in as Angie Macdonald, it was still a risk. But Carpenter was interested, and he was also a husband and father so it might be a way of getting closer. ‘You know what wives are like,’ he said.

Carpenter frowned. ‘How did you know I was married?’

‘That’s what visits are for, right? For the wives? Plus you’re wearing a wedding ring. Elementary, dear Watson.’

Carpenter pulled a face. ‘Mothers come sometimes,’ he said.

‘My mother’s written me off.’

‘Can’t understand where she went wrong?’

‘You know what I gave her for Christmas last year?’ said Shepherd. ‘Five grand in readies. Told her to buy herself something nice. My dad told me she gave the money to the RSPCA. Go figure.’

They turned right. More prisoners joined the crowd. Several new arrivals began to chat to prisoners from other blocks. Shepherd figured it was one of the few occasions when prisoners from different blocks could mix.

‘How’s your wife taking you being inside?’ asked Shepherd. He asked the question lightly, knowing that he was crossing a line. It was a personal question and the way that Carpenter reacted would determine which way the investigation went from that moment on.

‘She’s not happy,’ said Carpenter, ‘but she blames the filth, not me.’

Shepherd’s heart pounded. It was an offhand remark, but it was a confidence shared. A sign that a bridge was being built. ‘My wife says it’s my own stupid fault. She wants the house, the car, everything. And my kid,’ he said.

‘Get yourself a good lawyer,’ said Carpenter. ‘You’ve got to fight for what’s yours.’

‘Your wife’s not giving you grief ?’

Carpenter smiled. ‘She knows I won’t be here long.’

‘You’re not tunnelling, are you? I think that’s the only way I’ll be getting out.’

Carpenter chuckled. ‘You need a better plan than that.’

‘Is that what you’ve got? A plan?’

‘I’m not going to let them send me down for fifteen years, that’s for sure.’

‘Bastard judges.’

Carpenter shook his head. ‘Don’t blame the judges. All they’re doing is following the rules. It’s like blaming the referee because your team lost. The way I look at it, it’s your own fault for getting caught. And the cops’ fault for catching you.’

‘Yeah, that’s the truth,’ said Shepherd. ‘If I ever found out who grassed me up, I’ll kill them.’

Carpenter flashed him a sidelong look. ‘You were grassed?’

‘Must have been,’ said Shepherd. ‘Everything was sweetness and light and then suddenly the cops are everywhere. Armed cops, too, so they knew we were tooled up.’

‘Any idea who set you up?’

‘I was the new guy on the team. Could have been anybody. I’ll find out, though. If it takes me for ever, I’ll have the bastard.’

‘Won’t get you out of here any faster.’

‘So what’s your plan, then?’

Carpenter tapped the side of his nose. ‘Need to know,’ he said.

‘And I don’t,’ Shepherd said. ‘Right.’

The prisoners were escorted into a waiting area. There was a door at the far end where two male officers searched them, then handed each a yellow sash and ushered them through the door. Shepherd and Carpenter joined the queue.

The search was far more thorough than it was for going into the exercise yard. Every inch of Shepherd’s front, back and sides was patted down, and he had to open his mouth and stick out his tongue, then flick his ears forward to show he had nothing concealed there. The officer made Shepherd run his hands through his hair, then handed him a bright yellow sash.

‘Going cycling, are we?’ Shepherd asked, and grinned over his shoulder at Carpenter. ‘See this, Gerry? I’m off for a bike ride with the wife.’

The unsmiling prison officer nodded at Shepherd to go in. The visiting room was huge, the size of a tennis court. There was a balcony above the door from where an officer with a bored expression looked down on the rows of chairs and tables. There were already more than a hundred visitors, some sitting, some standing, waiting for their loved ones. Most were women and almost half had children with them. The tables were lined up in five rows, A to E, and each had four plastic chairs round it. The chairs could be moved but the tables were screwed to the floor.

A young red-headed woman, with a small baby strapped to her chest, was jumping up and down and waving. Her husband, who seemed barely out of his teens in a prison-issue tracksuit, waved back, then went over to a raised desk where a female officer checked his name against a list. Shepherd went over to her and gave her his name and number. ‘I’m supposed to have a private visit,’ he said.

She ran her pen down her computer printout. ‘Room five,’ she said, and pointed to the far end of the room.

As Shepherd walked between the tables he saw CCTV cameras in the four corners of the room. They were moving, focusing on individual tables, watching silently as husbands embraced wives, fathers cuddled small children and kissed babies. Several men were crying unashamedly, tears streaming down their faces as they held their wives.

Three officers were walking among the tables, their faces impassive as they watched the prisoners take their places. If they saw a man getting too passionate they’d tap his shoulder and tell him to sit down. The prisoners had to sit on the right-hand side of the table, the visitors on the left.

In one corner of the room a booth sold soft drinks and sweets, and there was a play area for young children, minded by a couple of cheery middle-aged women.

The door to room five was open and Sue was already sitting at the table, Liam saw Shepherd first and ran towards him, arms outstretched. ‘Daddy, Daddy!’ he shouted.

Shepherd picked him up and squeezed him. ‘Hiya, kid,’ he said, and kissed him.

‘When are you coming home, Daddy?’ asked Liam.

Shepherd kissed him again. ‘Soon,’ he said.

‘Today?’

‘No, not today, but soon.’

He put Liam down and held out his arms for Sue. She smiled, but he could see how tense she was. He held her and she slipped her arms round his waist. ‘God, I’ve missed you,’ he said.

‘It’s your choice, being here,’ she said, and he heard resentment in her voice.

‘I’m sorry,’ he said.

‘I didn’t realise how horrible it was.’

‘It’s prison,’ he said, trying to smile. ‘What did you think it’d be like?’

‘You hear stories, don’t you, about them being like holiday camps?’

‘That’s open prisons,’ said Shepherd.

‘What’s this, then?’

‘Category A. It’s high security.’

‘But you haven’t had a trial or anything. What happened to innocent until proven guilty?’

‘It’s the system, love,’ said Shepherd.

‘Why are you in prison, Daddy?’ asked Liam. ‘Were you bad?’

Shepherd knelt down and put a hand on his son’s shoulder. ‘I’ve not been bad, Liam, but you mustn’t tell anybody about Daddy being here.’

‘It’s a secret?’

‘That’s right.’

‘I won’t tell, Daddy.’

Shepherd ruffled his hair. ‘Good boy.’ Sue took a colouring book and some crayons out of her bag, put them on the table and Liam sat down with them. Shepherd stood up. ‘Thanks for coming,’ he said to his wife. ‘Did Sam Hargrove bring you?’

‘He sent a driver. He’s waiting for us outside. How long is this going to take, Dan? How long are you going to be in here?’

The room had a glass window so that prison officers could see inside, but no one seemed to be taking an interest in Shepherd.

‘A few weeks, maybe.’

‘Isn’t it dangerous?’ she whispered, not wanting Liam to hear. She sat down at the table. She was wearing her ten-year-old sheepskin jacket, the one she always wore when they went out walking, faded blue jeans and scuffed boots. Prison casual. But she’d taken care with her makeup and was wearing her long blonde hair loose, the way he liked it.

Shepherd shook his head. ‘It’s a remand wing,’ he said. ‘Everyone’s on their best behaviour because they want to getout.’Hewouldn’ttell herabouthisrun-inwithNeedles. Or about breaking Jurczak’s leg.

‘Some of the women waiting to come in were saying that there was a suicide last week.’

‘Not on the remand wing, love,’ said Shepherd.

‘What’s it like?’ Sue asked.

‘Boring, most of the time.’

‘Do you have a cell of your own?’

Shepherd smiled. ‘I wish. But it’s got a television.’

‘You’re joking!’

‘It’s no big deal,’ said Shepherd. ‘Keeps the inmates quiet.’

‘And are there fights and things?’

Shepherd laughed. ‘Of course not. It’s not like the movies. We don’t hang out in a yard having knife fights. We only get to exercise for forty-five minutes a day and we’re searched every time we go in and out.’

He sat down opposite her and they watched Liam colour a pirate ship, his brow furrowed in concentration.

Sue frowned. ‘Where did you get that watch?’

Shepherd glanced at the flashy Rolex. ‘Hargrove.’

‘It’s horrible.’

‘I know. It’s part of the cover.’ He showed her the thick gold chain round his neck. ‘This too.’

‘You look like a . . . I don’t know what you look like.’

‘It’s not for long.’

‘You owe me for this, Dan Shepherd. You owe me big-time.’

‘I know.’

‘I miss you.’

‘I miss you, too.’

‘I mean it, Dan. They’re not just words.’ Her eyes moved to Liam. ‘He’s not sleeping either.’

‘This is important, love.’

‘It’s always important, though, isn’t it? It’s always the big one. The guy who’s got to be put away. And then, once he’s gone, there’s another. And another.’

‘That’s why it’s important. If they’re allowed to get away with it, what sort of world would it be?’

‘But it’s always you, isn’t it? It’s always you taking risks. First with the Regiment and now with Hargrove and his have-a-go heroes.’ She leaned across the table. Shepherd could see that she was close to tears. ‘You’re an addict, Dan. That’s what it is. You’re an adrenaline junkie.’

A prison visiting room wasn’t the place for a discussion about his career, or his psyche, Shepherd knew. And he didn’t want to argue with her, especially not in front of Liam. There was another reason, too: in his heart of hearts he knew she was right.

Shepherd ruffled Liam’s hair. ‘You okay, kid?’

Liam nodded.

‘We’ll go fishing, when I come home.’ He turned back to his wife. ‘Your mum and dad okay?’

‘They’re fine.’

‘You haven’t told them . . .’

‘Give me some credit, Dan. How long have I been a policeman’s wife?’ She sighed, then answered her own question. ‘Too long.’

‘Do you want anything? A drink? Biscuits?’

‘No, thanks.’

‘I’m going to have to ask you to do something,’ said Shepherd.

‘I don’t like the sound of that.’

‘The reason we got the private visit is because everyone thinks you want to divorce me.’

Liam’s jaw dropped. ‘You and Mummy are getting divorced?’

‘Oh, God, no!’ said Shepherd. He picked up his son and cuddled him. ‘It’s just a joke. Like a play at school. Pretending.’

Liam frowned. ‘You’re pretending to get a divorce?’

‘That’s right.’

‘But you’re still coming home, aren’t you?’

Shepherd kissed him. ‘Of course.’

‘What’s going on, Dan?’

Shepherd put his son down in front of the colouring book and waited until the boy was absorbed again before he answered. ‘Carpenter’s outside.’

‘The man you’re after?’

Shepherd nodded. ‘He’s got a visit from his wife.’

‘So?’

‘So if you and I fake an argument, it gives me a chance to get closer to him.’

‘How?’

Shepherd could see she wasn’t happy with the idea, but it was too good an opportunity to miss. He leaned across the table and took her hands in his. ‘If he sees us argue, it gives credence to my legend. My cover story,’ he whispered. ‘If you go out cursing me, I can start spilling my guts to Carpenter. Husband to husband.’

‘And what about . . .?’ whispered Sue, gesturing at Liam.

‘We’ll say it’s a play,’ he said.

‘I like plays,’ said Liam.

Shepherd tapped the colouring book. ‘You’ve missed a bit,’ he said.

‘I can’t believe you want to use us like this.’

‘I’m not using you,’ said Shepherd, but even as the words left his mouth he knew it was a lie.

‘Isn’t it bad enough, you being away like this?’

‘The sooner I get what we need, the sooner I’ll be back home.’ An officer walked by the window, picking his nose. ‘Please, just do this one thing for me.’

‘But it’s not one thing, is it? It’s always like this. Out all night, whispered phone calls when you’re home, you coming back battered and bruised. Now you’re dragging me and Liam into it.’

Shepherd sat back in his chair and sighed. She was right. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said.